Queen of Drunks
by Nokito-chan
Summary: Cana did not get drunk easily - it required quite a lot of effort - and when she did it usually led to nothing short of pure chaos.
1. Part 1

_**a/n: This is my first Fairy Tail fic and I'm still trying to get used to writing the characters so I apologize for any OOC-ness etc. Constructive criticism is always welcome but please be nice! That being said, I really love FT and I have a ton of ideas for various pairings depending on how my first foray fares ^^ Please leave a review to tell me what I'm doing right, and what I'm doing wrong, and what you liked or didn't like … though hopefully you'll like it all! This is planned out as a two (maybe three) part oneshot but that really rather depends on the readers! So, if you think this is worth continuing be sure to let me know.**_

_**Warning: At the moment this is rated T but the eventual rating will be M so I'm posting it as such from the beginning. If you don't like, then don't read. Consider yourselves warned.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail – that honor belongs to Hiro Mashima so please don't sue me; I make no money from writing this so I can't afford lawsuits!**_

* * *

_**Queen of Drunks  
Part 1**_

* * *

The barrel was empty far too quickly for Cana Alberona's liking. She glanced around; the comforting chaos of Fairy Tail raging gently around her and once she was sure no one was paying her the slightest bit of attention, she quickly leaned backwards, dropping the empty barrel behind the counter. Casually, she straightened before she called out to Mirajane who was busy delivering mugs of beer to the rowdy tables that littered the hall as if dropped by a petulant child who had grown bored with his toys.

"Hey, Mira," the silver-blonde head turned inquisitively in the brunette's direction, "I'm grabbing another barrel." Before the other girl could say anything Cana added defensively, "It's only my second one today."

"Mira! Hey, Mira. Can we have another round over here?"

"Are those for us, Mira-chan?"

A cacophony of voices all clamouring for Mirajane's attention cut off whatever she'd opened her mouth to say in reply to Cana's statement and the dark-haired girl could only sigh in relief. She hated the time-span between shipments of liquor. Seriously, these people had no appreciation of the effort she put into making sure there was always enough alcohol to go around …

The barrel was reassuringly heavy in her hands; how she loved the smell of the oak it was made of, the slight tang of fermentation that clung to the wood. It spoke to her of dark, damp cellars and at the moment there was no place Cana would have loved to be in more; hiding in a cellar surrounded by the only thing in the world she could rely on sounded about right to her.

With deft movements of nimble fingers the cork popped out of the barrel and dark hair flowed silkily down her back, just brushing the counter-top, as she tilted her head back and took a long, long swallow. For the first time in a long time, Cana cursed her unnatural resilience to copious amounts of alcohol. Just this once, she'd have really liked to get rip-roaring drunk off nothing but a couple of mugs of beer. As it stood, she was going to need a hell of a lot more than the three empties stacked behind the bar, out of Mirajane's line of sight, and the current one she cradled in her arms.

A sigh stirred the lengths of hair that rested over her face as she laid her head down on top of the barrel, still clinging to it like a life-line.

_Men_.

From her father, right down to the last snivelling excuse for masculinity; the entire species baffled her. But one man in particular was responsible for her current state, and how Cana wished the bastard was in front of her so she could tell him exactly what she thought of him. Cowardice, that was all it was. For all his brave, if perverted, talk with his buddies he was just _so_ terrified of what could be that he'd rather date some … some over-the-hill divorcee! How could he _not _have known how she felt? All she'd ever wanted was a chance; it wasn't like she thought it was true love or some kind of connection of souls or anything like that … it was just that she'd have liked the chance to see if it could be something more than a prickling of caring and a spark of attraction.

Seriously, she wasn't that much younger!

But, no, apparently Macao really was as oblivious as she'd always thought he'd pretended to be.

Another deep swallow, one slender hand wiping across her mouth, the tip of her tongue swiping across her lips to ensure not a drop was wasted, and Cana grimly decided that the next time Loke showed his face in the guild she was going to kick his ass for all the incredibly useless information and tips he'd fed her over the years. What use was being a playboy if you couldn't come up with marketable techniques?

"I'm going to really kill that flame-breathing bastard one of these days."

The harshly groaned words, along with the thump of his head hitting the polished surface of the bar brought Cana back to her surroundings with a jolt. Gray slumped next to her, head resting on the bar, as he sprawled on the stool. Tiny icicles formed on the surface of the bar as he blew out an exasperated breath and closed his eyes.

On any other day Cana would have laughed sympathetically, maybe even asked him what Natsu had done to piss him off this time, and, once she'd teased him back to good humor, they would have proceeded to comfortably drink themselves into a stupor; talking about everything and nothing the way only really old friends could ever manage. But today, just this one time, Cana felt completely justified in ignoring her friend's need in favor of her own.

"That's hardly anything new, Gray."

Keeping her head down, eyes firmly fixed on her task of re-stoppering the barrel, Cana allowed her hair to mask her expression as she hoisted the barrel over her shoulder and slid off the bar.

"See you," she mumbled vaguely in his direction as she headed for the door. Clearly she was going to have to take her drinking elsewhere if she ever intended to get a moment of peace in which to brood.

Cool fingers closed gently around her free wrist, effectively pulling her to a halt.

"Hey, what's up?"

The concern in Gray's voice was exactly what she'd been afraid of; the reason why she'd been going out of her way to avoid her childhood friend. Ever since news of Macao's plans for the evening had become common knowledge around the guild, she'd been afraid of seeing Gray. He, better than anyone, would be able to read the confusing welter of emotion she was trying so desperately to hide.

Carefully, she shook her hand until he had no choice but to let go, "Nothing. Just not feeling very sociable today. I'll see you later, okay?"

Without waiting for a reply she quickly strode towards the front door, half-holding her breath but as soon as she was outside, in the cool evening air and it became apparent that Gray wasn't following her, she relaxed.

Now, to find some place to be left in peace…

Aimlessly, Cana wandered down the sidewalk, wondering where she should go. She didn't want to go home … drinking by herself in an empty apartment smacked too much of the alcoholism she was regularly accused of … the glimmer of the river in the moonlight caught the corner of her eye and the hazy picture of a river-bank, hidden behind the rise of a grassy knoll, flashed before her eyes; Erza had been fond of hiding there when they had been younger but as far as Cana knew it was a private spot. With sudden purpose she pivoted on one heel and strode off in the direction of the river.

* * *

Hours later, even Cana had to admit that maybe she'd over-estimated her resistance to alcohol. Four barrels of beer was nothing, not to her, but four barrels of bourbon was enough to get past even her defences. Comfortably she stretched out, flat on her back, her head cushioned on her arms, and enjoyed the feeling of the world spinning around her, as she stared at the sky through hazy eyes. It was rare that she got to really _enjoy_ being drunk, but today she fully intended to take advantage of her inebriation.

With a sigh, and vaguely contemplating that drunk words were sober thoughts but deciding that she really didn't care, she admitted to herself that, more than anything else, it was her pride that stung. For years, she'd been subtly (and not so subtly at times) throwing hints that she wouldn't be adverse if Macao suddenly decided to make a move, but despite her - and Loke's – best efforts, the older mage had remained elusive. In all the years Cana had known him he'd never gone on a date, never shown more than superficial interest in an attractive woman, and she'd honestly thought she had it in the bag. He could only resist his baser urges for so long, right? To then realize that she'd been studiously ignored for years, despite her looks and her youth, only to lose out to someone twice her age and already past her prime … Not only that but to find that Macao had known the woman all but a few hours before he'd asked her out … when he'd been resisting Cana's charms for years … well, it had stung.

For just a moment she'd wondered if that was all the cards had in store for her… lonely evenings spent by herself in an empty apartment interspersed with the odd one-night-stand. The thought had been too depressing to bear, so she'd reached for the alcohol to try and drown it into oblivion. Only that had got her thinking; denial was a beautiful thing, after all and it was so much better to be angry at Macao.

But now, hazy with drink, and suddenly glorying in truth, Cana couldn't help but admit that she just really hated losing. Why was she always on the losing end? It wasn't fair. She'd never asked to be an incredibly powerful S-class wizard's daughter, hadn't asked to be surrounded by such ridiculously talented people that she couldn't even complete a stupid test by the fourth time she took it …

"There you are!"

The thoughts cut off before she could work herself into a proper alcohol-induced bout of misery but it still took Cana a moment before her befuddled senses realized the voice that had interrupted her impromptu pity party was speaking to her. Slowly, she tilted her head backward, glassy eyes meeting Gray's blue ones. The ice mage stood over her, hands on his hips and a frown on his face.

"God, Cana. Do you have a death wish? You can't just go getting drunk and passing out wherever you feel like it! One of these days you'll really get yourself killed!"

The harsh words and harsher frown was softened by the twitching corners of his mouth and Cana smiled happily up at him.

"Ahhh, Gray, don't go spoiling my fun." The words were only slightly slurred and Cana beamed another proud smile up at her friend.

"Only you would be proud of only slightly slurring," he sighed as he dropped down to sit next to her, arms braced on his bent knees, legs spread and intertwined fingers dangling between them. "I'm serious though, Cana. Don't do this, please. If you want to get drunk you can do it at the guild or at your house, or mine, or any of our friends' – just don't go looking for trouble like this."

"Awww, you were worried!" Cana giggled as she pushed herself to a sitting position, only to find that it made the world spin worse than ever and not in a pleasant way. With a low groan she slowly dropped her head onto her friend's shoulder, closing her eyes until the worst of the whirling stopped.

"Yeah, we all were when you didn't come back."

His breath stirred strands of hair that had fallen over her face and Cana smiled slightly at the cool caress of air his words washed over her temple; strange how comforting she found that.

"You worry too much."

"And you don't worry nearly enough! Last time you were lucky Lucy found you! And I don't even want to think about what could've happened if I didn't find you this time – you do know that anyone could've found you here?"

"You'll find me. You always have."

The words were drowsy and suddenly Cana wanted nothing quite as much as she wanted to sleep. Her head drooped further, her suddenly boneless body unable to support her and with a small moan she allowed her head to slip off Gray's shoulder to rest on his chest. The metal of his necklace dug into her cheek uncomfortably and she moaned again as she wriggled closer, forcing him to lean back so she could find a more comfortable position.

"One day I won't."

His voice carried more than a little warning but Cana merely smiled, her eyes closed, as he slid an arm beneath her knees. Her arms lifted automatically to wrap around his neck as he picked her up bridal style and carried her up the hill.

"And _that _worries me, Cana."

* * *

The moment Gray lowered Cana's feet to the ground at her apartment door, she slipped her key into the hole and swayed her way to the kitchen; all the while ignoring Gray's grumbled complaints about how she was sure to have a beer-belly one of these days, that she weighed as much as if she already did. Four glasses of water, chugged in quick succession while Gray locked her front door and switched on the lights, did the trick and, despite the stumbling run, Cana made it to the bathroom in time.

More muttering accompanied the cool fingers that gathered the strands of her hair away from her face as she threw up into the toilet, but she only closed her eyes in grateful acceptance. Despite popular belief Cana hadn't been born a natural drinker, it had taken lots of practice to get to the level of endurance she had, and she was well versed in all the tricks. Enough water to combat the hangover was the key – sometimes, like tonight, she was lucky enough to be able to get it all out of her system in one fell swoop and she was grateful for the fact. She didn't need the monstrous hangover that was looming on top of everything else.

Finally, she sat back, legs splayed beneath her shuddering form and the fall of hair that swooped down to hang in limp strands around her pale and sweaty features was the only warning she had that Gray's legs were no longer bracing her back; she quickly placed her hands on the tiles below her, and tried to ignore the sickening way the world spun. A glass of water was pushed unceremoniously into her hands and Cana took a grateful sip, swirling it around her mouth before spitting that into the porcelain bowl of the toilet as well and pulling the handle again. The rest of the cool liquid was downed in one gulp as she shakily closed the lid and pulled herself up to sit on the toilet.

"Shower…" was all she managed but miraculously Gray only turned to twist the knob for the hot water without a word. When he judged the water to be a reasonable temperature, she was pulled to her feet and matter-of-factly divested of her clothes. From far away she was aware of his averted eyes, the slight blush that tinged his pale cheeks with rosy color and she smiled gently as she pushed past him and stepped under the spray. Her eyes closed in ecstasy as she rested her forehead against the cool wall-tiles and allowed the water to pour over her head. The sound of the shower door shutting alerted her to the fact that Gray was leaving but she was too exhausted to really care; she'd thank him in the morning. Maybe. If she didn't just decide to pretend that the entire thing had never happened.

The water worked wonders, it always did. After a few minutes she could almost feel the mists of drunkenness withdrawing from her senses and Cana quickly washed before the water ran cold. When she finally emerged, swathed in a towel and wreathed with sweet-smelling steam, her wet hair combed back to drip onto the floor as it dried, Gray was stretched out on her bed. His clothes formed a small mound on the polished wood of her floor but Cana decided to forgive him for comfortably stripping to his boxers when she spotted the mug of steaming liquid he'd placed on her bedside table.

She sank down next to him, leaning against the head-board and cradling the warm porcelain between her still-shaking fingers.

"Hangover averted?" Gray finally broke the silence.

"Yeah," another sip of the heavenly caffeine, a slightly awkward pause followed by a rush of even more awkward words, "and thanks. For helping me – taking care of me, I mean. I didn't mean to make my friends worry."

"I'm just wondering what could've happened to make you worry us like that." The words were soft, not whispered, but absolutely devoid of any emotion – merely a query that she could take or leave as she saw fit.

Cana sighed. Keeping things from Gray was never quite like keeping things from anyone else. Before Lucy, he had been the only one to know the secret of her parentage. After years of friendship Cana had imparted that piece of information during a drunken moment of bad judgement but she'd been relieved, afterward. She'd hated having secrets from him and he'd proved her right in her trust of him, over the years. He would've taken her secret to the grave if she hadn't ever taken the step to telling her father. Even after she had, he'd never said anything to indicate that he'd been privy to the information before anyone else. That was the problem with having friends like Gray, Cana reflected bitterly, it made you feel guilty when you kept things from them – no matter that it really wasn't any of their business.

"Macao went on a date tonight," she finally stated through gritted teeth, replacing her mug on the table to avoid looking at the man stretched out next to her. She felt the reverberations of the mattress though, as he stiffened and stared.

With as much dignity as she could manage, Cana stood and walked to the small closet that housed her clothes. An old pair of black and grey chequered pyjama bottoms she'd stolen from Gray years ago was quickly pulled over her hips followed by an oversized black t-shirt. As she pulled her wet hair through the neck of the shirt she finally chanced a look from beneath lowered lashes; he was staring at her speculatively.

"So you got drunk?" something lurked in his tone that she didn't want to examine, "that's not like you, Cana. I mean, the drinking is, yeah, but … you don't give up and one date isn't a wedding ceremony. So, what's with the dramatics?"

She gritted her teeth, this was exactly why she hated telling Gray anything excessively personal; he had a way of going right to the heart of the matter when she really didn't want to discuss it.

"I guess it just finally got through to me that he wasn't interested and never would be and that sort of stung," she allowed, picking up her mug of coffee again and pacing restlessly up and down as she drank in short, agitated sips.

Gray snorted, "Don't try the heartbroken crap with me, Cana. I've known you too long – you mean your pride was hurt. What I don't get is why you didn't just break into his house and seduce him instead of getting drunk and wallowing in self-pity about whether you'd gotten ugly or something."

Luckily the last of the coffee had been drained seconds before Gray had opened his mouth because he'd barely finished the sentence before the heavy porcelain flew in a straight arc towards his head. Only his quick reflexes saved him; ice encased the cup mid-air and it fell harmless to the bed.

"Gray!" She managed to make his name both an indignant shriek and a curse.

"What? Are you insane – that could've seriously hurt and after I took care of you and everything!" he shouted back, leaping to his feet, suddenly tense fingers going for the waistband of his black boxers.

"Stop!" Cana yelled and his hands stilled, "God, fine, you're right, okay? Happy now? Just don't strip, for heaven's sake!"

She sank down onto the bed, suddenly miserable for no particular reason she could divine, and curled her legs up to her chest, arms wrapped protectively around herself.

"I don't know, okay? I don't know why I didn't do something. He looked happy and I didn't want to spoil that and suddenly I couldn't help but wonder if it was ever really about Macao as a person and if I wasn't just subconsciously looking for a daddy-substitute."

Silence greeted her words and Cana buried her face in her knees, until she felt the hand on her shoulder and the dip of the mattress as he sat back down too.

"I also kind of wondered about that," he admitted quietly.

As if the words gave her the courage to speak, the flood-gates opened, "I mean, suddenly, I looked at Macao and there wasn't even really attraction there anymore, you know? Suddenly he was just my friend that finally seemed to be getting on with his life and I was happy for him, but not the least bit sad for me, and I didn't know how to deal with that after all this time of chasing after him."

Blue eyes, darkened and shiny with suppressed tears, bored desperately into the eyes of her friend.

"What if that's where I'm headed, Gray? What if, all my life, I'm going to be chasing after unattainable older guys simply because I didn't have the courage to talk to my father before I was grown up enough that the damage to my psyche had already been done? Worse, what if I land one of them only to find out years from now that I'd gotten over my daddy-issues and I'm trapped in a relationship I don't really want?"

"Cana! Stop!" Gray took hold of her shoulders and gave her a small, firm shake. "You're freaking yourself out for no good reason. You're not like that, okay? It won't happen."

"How do you _know_?" she refused to acknowledge the edge of desperation that lurked in her words.

Slowly, Gray let go and sat back, a slight smirk playing around the corners of his mouth, "Because you've never had a thing for any other older guy and you've already proved that you like guys your own age just fine."

The blush ran like wild-fire across her somewhat shell-shocked features; shameless was how Cana would usually describe herself but even she had her limits – some things were meant to be buried in the past. She gaped at Gray as the blush faded and she scrambled to recover her equilibrium. Finally she decided that there was no point in running from the comment, "Gray, I thought we agreed never to talk about it. There's no point in rehashing the past."

One dark eyebrow rose smoothly as he stared calmly back at the suddenly nervous girl, pleating the comforter between her fingers and said levelly, "We did. But I think you need to remember, Cana. For your own peace of mind, if nothing else."

She dropped the crumpled fabric as if she'd been burned and hurriedly moved to the edge of the bed.

"Okay, fine, I remember. Point taken."

The blush burned the tips of her ears again at his low chuckle from behind her and she gritted her teeth to keep from uttering more panicked words.

"Ashamed, Cana? Or embarrassed? Neither is very like you."

The chuckle turned into a quickly suppressed laugh at the way she sat straighter with every word he uttered, a nearly visible shudder running down her spine.

"Gray, please, don't do this –″

The sudden levity ceased and she was unceremoniously yanked back, one hand firmly curled around her wrist and the other tilting her chin and holding her in place so she had no choice but to look at him. Despite the rough handling his voice was almost gentle as he spoke and Cana furiously bit the inside of her cheek as if that could help her to stop hearing his words.

"You've got some or other ridiculous idea that you've developed some kind of complex because of your father when nothing could be further from the truth. You have issues, sure, who in Fairy Tail doesn't? But you don't need to create non-existent ones for yourself, too. So, I think that you need to, just this once, remember. You need to remember when you were sixteen and tipsy and curious…"

Long lashes formed dark half-moons on her burning cheeks as Cana closed her eyes, unable to look at him any longer; his fingers fell away from her chin but she didn't move.

"Cana, look at me," his voice was thickly laced with exasperation as he sighed and grabbed her hand. Cool fingers twined around her own and hesitantly Cana opened one eye then the other; the judgement she feared wasn't present in the clear gaze, no blame, nothing except vague amusement.

"I was just drunk and curious as you were. You've got to stop beating yourself up about it! We were stupid, yeah, but no harm done as the last two years clearly attest so what are you still getting so worked up about?"

"I shouldn't have thrown myself at you like that," she finally muttered in return, eyes falling to her lap and her agitatedly twisting fingers, "but since you insist on bringing up things best left forgotten: I apologize, okay? I didn't mean to take advantage of you like that."

The groan was accompanied by the squeaking of the bedsprings as he fell back against the pillows one hand dragging through the dark, spiky bangs that fell over his eyes.

"_That's _what you've been thinking all this time?"

"Well … you were drunker than me…"

"God, Cana, I can't believe you're making me say this; I didn't mind, okay? You didn't take advantage of me and, no offence, but back then you sucked at being seductive. You didn't make me do anything I didn't want."

Her eyes rose just in time to see the grimace that flashed quickly across his pale features and Cana allowed the hope to bloom fully.

"Really?"

The grimace was gone as if it had never been, replaced by a smirk that quickly grew into full out amusement as he grinned down at her.

"I don't need to kiss you to prove it, do I?"

A shriek of embarrassed laughter quickly followed by a pillow hurtling towards his head was the only answer he got, but as Gray grabbed a pillow of his own in retaliation he allowed the satisfied grin to spring to life.

Crises averted.

* * *

_**a/n: Thoughts? Comments? –peeks at readers from between fingers-**_


	2. Part 2

_**a/n: Sorry it took so long! And thank you to everyone who reviewed – you made my day ^^ So, it turns out that GrayxCana is a lot harder to write than FreedxMira so I apologize for any OOC-ness and other weird things in the chapter xD I've fixed the silly mistakes with eye-color and age in the first chapter (thank you to the people who pointed that out!) but please let me know if you find more.**_

_**Warnings: Rated M**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or its characters, they belong to Hiro Mashima.**_

* * *

_**Queen of Drunks  
Part 2**_

* * *

His new girlfriend was all Macao could talk about. It was sickening, really. Cana gritted her teeth and forced herself to smile – no matter how fake, a smile was still better than a grimace. Pride was a bitch, she decided, but the problem was ever since Macao's first date with the woman two weeks ago, she'd been unable to get the images of her past behavior out of her head. The growing intimacy between Macao and his divorcee was glaringly obvious – if only due to the fact that he'd spent every free moment he had with her.

Macao was her friend and she was happy for him but the fact that he'd chosen someone other than her still stung. It wasn't that she was wondering what she'd done wrong, or what she should have done; she wasn't rehashing her past flirting attempts to analyse her behavior or to try to come between them, it was merely that Cana couldn't help but wonder if Macao had confided those attempts to his new friend. When getting to know someone romantically what could be more natural than swapping dating history – Macao would have spoken about his divorce and his son, that went without saying – but what disturbed Cana was what came _after _the divorce. In the last three years Macao hadn't had any romantic contact with anyone, after all, not unless her own feeble attempts counted.

That was what worried her – the idea that Macao and some unknown woman would be rehashing a silly girl's attempts at catching an older man's eye. How they would laugh … she could almost hear them now …

The smile faltered and Cana quickly took a sip from her mug of beer to try and hide the fact. She couldn't stand being the butt of their jokes, it was unendurable. The worst part was, she couldn't exactly come straight out and ask Macao if he'd mentioned her or not – because Macao had never acknowledged any of her attempts at flirting – no matter how outrageous.

All the times she'd sat a little closer than really necessary, touches that lingered and words that suggested, the times she'd tried to get him drunk … it all ran through her mind in a series of still-frames and movie clips. She could hear her own voice echoing in her head; asking Macao inside for a drink when he'd been worried she was too drunk to make her own way home and how she'd pretended to stumble drunkenly at least twice so she could have an excuse to lean against him. All the times she'd fished for compliments … the day she'd thrown out all her old dresses and t-shirts – reasoning that the women hanging around Loke certainly subscribed to the adage that less is more and it clearly worked for them so why not try it? Perfectly serviceable clothing had been replaced with tank-tops, mid-riff tops, bikini tops and skin-tight pairs of pants, short-shorts and mini-skirts. She closed her eyes briefly in mortification as she recalled all the times she'd leaned over a table, flaunting her cleavage under the guise of leaning closer so they could talk …

"Ah, here she is now. Right on time." Macao jumped to his feet, cutting off in the middle of the sentence as he strode eagerly towards the entrance.

Cana arched an inquisitive eyebrow at Wakaba, noticing for the first time that Gray had joined their little discussion. She'd been too caught up in her thoughts if she hadn't even noticed someone sitting down next to her … she would have to be more careful; gain composure and keep it. Wakaba grinned and tilted his head, pipe bobbing in the direction Macao had gone.

Some sixth sense warned her; somehow she just knew to not stare blatantly. Instead she lifted her mug slowly to her lips, angling her head so she could see the entrance from the corner of her eye while appearing to be taking an innocent sip of her drink. Cana nearly choked on the small mouthful of beer she hadn't been able to resist. Macao stood framed in the doorway; a small, dark-haired woman by his side. She was older, of course; there was no hiding the maturity time had given to the face framed by a sleek bob, but she was still slim and attractive and Cana grudgingly had to admit that she could see why Macao had chosen this woman. Her entire being screamed normalcy – immaculate trousers and blouse flattering her figure, make-up applied sparingly so it enhanced instead of trying to hide every blemish and wrinkle.

Cana replaced her mug on the table, after a long swallow, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, already feeling too tall, too gangly, too unkempt and much, much too young and gauche. Macao had the woman by the hand, enthusiastically talking as he drew her along to their table. The pictures flashed again – parading around scantily clad, exuberant hugs for no reason except to press against him. But, as the pair came towards her, the one memory she'd been trying to repress most of all flashed front and center and refused to recede. It clashed almost incongruously with the image Macao's divorcee presented; she was the picture of refined finesse, the picture in Cana's head everything but.

About a year ago, she'd had too much to drink … not enough to really be drunk of course, just enough to have more courage than was good for her. Macao had been drinking too, depressed because of something his ex-wife had done or said or something, the guild had been empty and Cana had taken her chance. He'd still been talking when she'd simply leaned across and pressed her lips against his, moving persuasively. For a moment nothing had happened, he'd been frozen into stillness by the shock and then his fingers had curled around her shoulders and, for one crazy moment, exultation had run through her veins at the thought that he was finally giving in, but then reality had crashed down with a vengeance as Macao deliberately, gently, pushed her away. He'd avoided her eyes as he said goodnight, mumbling something about being way too drunk … and the next day they'd both just pretended as if nothing had happened.

The blush, so uncharacteristic and unfamiliar, pushed into her face, spread throughout her veins until it felt as if her whole body was glowing and Cana instinctively reared backwards, sliding along the bench as if she could escape the coming introductions. It would be the easiest thing in the world to simply slide sideways until she was far enough along the table so she could slip away into the crowd unnoticed …

Cool skin collided with her almost-bare back and Cana jumped. Cold fingers closed around her midriff as Gray reached out to steady her, and she almost cursed out loud. The cards should have warned her that this would not be her day … but it was too late. She couldn't escape, not anymore. Macao was no more than two feet away now, still leading the shyly smiling woman through the throng as her eyes swept over the assembled mages – half in wonderment, half in wariness.

Cana sighed, leaned back, and muttered so only Gray could hear her, "I'm going to kill you later, Fullbuster."

He barely had time for a surprised, "What did I do?" whispered in return before the moment was upon them.

Squaring her shoulders, Cana shook her hair back, the rippling waves shone in the buttery lights of the guild hall, and forced herself to at least attempt to look welcoming. Up close there was no hiding the fine lines around the other woman's eyes and mouth but she spoke softly, smiled pleasantly and Cana did her best to act natural as she smiled in return. She refused to acknowledge the fact that she remained pressed up against Gray, as if attempting to gain strength from his solid form at her back.

The introductions flew over her head and Cana was thankful for the fact that Wakaba seemed to be carrying the conversation so she didn't have to say anything but the reprieve was short-lived.

"You make a lovely couple, you must hear that a lot, but the dark hair and pale skin…"

The shy, softly-spoken compliment was directed at Cana and Gray and they both jumped, wide eyes staring first at Macao's companion and then quickly at each other. Too late, Cana realized what their position must look like; no one could blame the woman for the conclusion she jumped to with Gray's arm still half around her waist as they sat closely together on the wide, wooden bench.

Gray cleared his throat, an uncomfortable chuckle filling the sudden silence, "Ah, yeah …"

"Thank you, what a lovely compliment."

It took a moment to register, a moment to realize that the voice was her own and distantly Cana wondered why on earth she'd said something like that but it was too late to recall the words. She could feel Gray's body tensing behind her, sensed the way he stared at her, probably already calculating possible reasons as to why she would've allowed the woman to believe something like that, but Cana merely placed her hand on his thigh and squeezed. To the others this would appear an affectionate gesture but she knew Gray would catch on to the pleading the movement disguised - or she hoped he would.

He cleared his throat again, "Um, yeah, thanks," he muttered uncomfortably.

Gray took her hand and squeezed so hard Cana had to force the bright smile to remain in place when all she really wanted was to wince. He would want answers later and she had no idea what she would tell him but … in for a penny in for a pound. Mentally she squared her shoulders, forced herself to relax, and leaned back against Gray, still smiling up at the standing couple in front of her. Pointedly, she avoided Macao's astonished gaze, Wakaba's lecherous winks.

"What are your plans for tonight?" Cana asked softly, hoping to deflect attention away from the unintentional spectacle she'd made of herself – again. Her nails dug into the back of Gray's hand but he merely reached out with the other and carefully disentangled their fingers, replacing her hand on his leg as he reached for his mug; she could see the forced smile on his face from the corner of her eye and she nearly groaned out loud.

What had she been thinking?

"Just dinner. We're trying a new restaurant," Macao cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"What about you guys, Cana? Anything _special _planned?" Wakaba grinned around his pipe.

Barely suppressing the urge to kick the man across from her, Cana narrowed her eyes at him. "Nothing special, Wakaba," she replied sweetly.

"You're sure? Being in such a new relationship and all, I'm surprised you're not holed up in a bedroom somewhere," Wakaba convulsed with silent laughter as both Cana and Gray sat up straighter and glared at him. "After all, I'm sure even an old has-been like Macao here has got something special planned later on," he concluded, ducking out from under the slap Macao aimed at the back of his head.

It happened occasionally; a force that took hold of her when she experienced a particularly strong emotion. Whenever that happened Cana merely reacted, no thought, no deliberation, she just went with whatever came to mind. Unfortunately, this was one of those occasions; Wakaba had pushed the wrong buttons when she was already at the end of her endurance. She turned slightly in her seat, just enough so she was pressed against Gray's side. One hand slid up his chest, over the chilly skin; tangling briefly in the chain around his neck before her fingertips traced the edges of the Fairy Tail tattoo on his chest.

"What makes you think we need a bedroom?" she asked; her voice low and full of a mixture of challenge and promise as she leaned carefully into Gray, curling around him and reaching up to just touch the tip of her tongue to the sensitive spot behind his ear.

The wintry skin seemed to heat up beneath her touch, his spine stiffened and he drew a sharp breath inward. For a moment Cana worried that she'd driven Gray too far in this little game she was suddenly embroiled in, but he stayed perfectly still under her touch. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her palm and she knew if she looked up a tinge of red would be across his cheeks. How angry he was remained to be seen, but the tell-tale signs of his disposition towards her were enough to snap her back to sanity.

Slowly she withdrew, eyes cast downward, and reached for her mug, suddenly uncaring of what any of them thought or did. Time and again it was proven – the only thing she could truly count on and relate to resided inside the mug she now held clenched between her hands. The guilt surged, just below the surface, shame mingling into it until Cana felt sick but she forced herself to sit still, to wave a careless hand at Macao and his friend as they quickly took their leave. After her little scene she didn't blame them for being uncomfortable in her presence; what had she hoped to gain by acting like a total slut?

As if he sensed the tense atmosphere, Wakaba quickly made himself scarce after Macao left and Cana waited silently for Gray to blow up at her or for him to storm off. He did neither. Finally, she raised her eyes; defiant pride clinging to her expression as she levelled him with a challenging gaze. Instead of rising to the challenge, instead of yelling at her, Gray merely shook his head and sighed, raised his mug in her direction and proceeded to drain all of it in one long swallow.

Slowly, Cana followed suit, hoping that the entire incident would be forgotten but perfectly willing to drink until they couldn't remember their own names much less anything they had done.

* * *

The night air was cool, stroking soothingly along her flushed cheeks. After Macao and Wakaba had left, they'd remained as they were, drinking silently but steadily, until Cana almost wished Gray would just _say_ something, no matter how little she might like it. Eventually, she'd grudgingly admitted to herself that he knew her far too well; knew that if he stayed quiet she'd be unable to keep it up in the long run.

"I'm sorry!" she'd finally burst out, amidst their fifth round of drinks, "I don't know what possessed me, okay?"

A nearly silent sigh and a level gaze, before he'd answered, "I've known you a long time, Cana. I know how you get. I just want to know what the hell you were trying to prove."

How hard it had been to explain. Haltingly, and with many stops and starts, the story had poured from Cana – how, now she was free of the crush, she couldn't stop the humiliation from flooding through her every time she thought of it. Finally, the whole story had been debated, pulled apart and consigned to the past, and for the first time in two weeks Cana felt somewhat like herself again. The lingering feeling that Gray hadn't quite forgiven her for the show she'd put on had been pushed aside, drowned in copious amounts of alcohol and she'd been in a much better mood as they left the guild for the night.

The quiet freshness of the night was the only accompaniment to their slow, rambling walk, both caught up in their own thoughts and it was with surprise that Cana noticed her building looming in front of them, rising up out of the shadows of night far sooner than she'd expected. Without asking she knew Gray would come in for another drink so she merely headed up the stairs, towards her door without a word to her friend. Her door was barely locked behind them, half the lights still turned off, when she felt his icy fingers wrapping around her shoulders in the semi-darkness. Without ceremony Gray pushed her up against the front door, his leanly muscled frame pressed tightly against her as her back connected with the door.

"Gray! What-?"

The surprised shriek cut off abruptly as she met his eyes in the dark. His eyes blazed into hers, his mouth pulled into a thin line and suddenly she realized that she'd totally underestimated his reaction to her stunt earlier. Futilely she pushed at his shoulders, trying to squirm out from under him; not because she didn't like how his body felt against hers, rather because if felt surprisingly good … and she was decidedly _not _ready for those kinds of feelings after having just barely gotten over the Macao-debacle.

"So. You're a tease now too, Cana? I thought we _didn't need bedrooms_."

His voice lashed over her, low and vibrating with emotions she couldn't quite make out or understand. Her mouth opened, what she was going to say she had no idea but before she could utter a single syllable Gray pushed away from her.

"Forget it," he muttered in disgust, "I'm not stooping to your level."

The bolts of remorse were nearly unbearable, "I really am sorry, Gray," she whispered to his back, "I don't know what came over me and I'm truly sorry I dragged you into it."

He whirled around, tightly suppressed emotion just barely visible in the strain around his mouth and the narrowing of his eyes. "That's just it, Cana. I'm your friend and I'll help you with anything you may need but there are … lines. And they shouldn't be crossed. I don't like to be used. "

Long hair fell forward as she ducked her head, accepting his words without a fight. "I'm sorry," she whispered again.

For a long time Gray was silent, neither accepting nor rejecting her apology, but she was all too aware of the way his eyes roved over her, trying to see beneath the veil of hair. She would be forever thankful that Gray couldn't read minds because she wasn't too sure what to make of her thoughts herself. One the one hand was the shame and the well-deserved guilt but on the other … there was a lascivious little voice that whispered to her; reminded her of the way his hard body had felt against her, that spoke of past passion – low moans and whispered pleasure. The memory lacked reality; too much time had passed for her to be able to feel the tingling of her lips as his ice-cold breath brushed against her mouth. It had been too long – and yet not nearly long enough to forget the way he'd felt, moving inside her. Intimacy had still been new back then but also something she hadn't really shared with anyone since Gray.

Later, she would blame the alcohol for her momentary lapse in sanity. But the truth was, in that moment, Cana couldn't remember ever having wanted someone as much as she wanted Gray. Before the thought had crystalized as intent she was already taking a step forward, then two, her hand reaching up to rest lightly on his shoulder, urging him to turn and face her. He'd barely complied before she was pressing up against him, arms winding around his neck as she stood on her toes and pressed her lips against his. The sweet pressure was over far too soon but she was already breathless, her heart pounding a wild rhythm in her chest.

"I don't tease," she murmured against his mouth, eyes searching his for any sign that this was what he wanted too.

Slowly, Gray's hands settled on her hips, fingers biting into her skin in a way that made her shiver. She leaned forward, resting her weight against him, suddenly boneless and aware of nothing except the tingling that radiated outward from the points of contact to encompass her entire body. The fingers stilled, clenched harder, digging almost painfully into her.

"I'm not going to be your Macao substitute or rebound or whatever," he whispered back, his eyes never leaving hers.

He started to draw away, hands sliding over her skin as if he couldn't help but take a last caress, but Cana was quicker. Her fingers slid up his neck to quickly tangle in the dark locks at his nape as she pulled him towards her again.

"I never said that's what I wanted you to be," she said, hoping that the sincerity showed in her words and expression, "I want _you_. Not Macao. That's in the past. I told you, I'm just having a hard time getting over the wounded pride."

His indecision was nearly painful; she could feel the way he wavered, caught between believing her and wanting to believe her almost too much. His eyes glittered in the dim light as he searched her expression intently; so much intensity radiating from her that she felt light-headed just imagining that intensity directed into another activity …

A low curse, too low to really make out, and his lips covered hers; soft, cooler than her own spiking temperature but containing a heat that was uniquely Gray nonetheless. Her back met the wall as he spun her around, roughly winding her leg around his hip as he thrust against her, his tongue tracing along the seam of her lips and plunging into her mouth with a force that stole the last of her breath from her lungs. With a gasp, Cana melted against him, pressed as close as she could get and relied on his strength to keep her upright. The skin of his chest felt like silk beneath her fingers as she dragged her nails along his shoulders, over and down, revelling in the deep growl the action elicited. Calloused fingers traced along her stomach, up to cup her breasts as the other hand wormed between her back and the wall to pull at the strings of the bikini top she wore; she arched accommodatingly. The memory of the contrast – the heat of his mouth and the coldness of his fingers - brought her body alive so quickly it was almost embarrassing.

Firm abdominal muscles jumped under her touch; one hand pushing his shoulder so he leaned slightly away, allowing Cana to slip her free hand between them. Her fingertips caressed softly over the dips and planes of his stomach, enjoying the reaction – how he growled into her mouth, barely allowed her a second to breathe before renewing the kiss with even more passionate force. Urgent hands roamed the contours of her body, slipping up to torment the pebbled tips of her breasts and sliding back down to cup her rear. Alcohol lent urgency to his touches, grabbing handfuls of supple flesh as if he couldn't get enough, as if he'd been starved of the contact for too long.

It was misleading – Cana, better than most, knew that he was hardly lacking feminine company; the confirmation that she hadn't imagined the intensity of their previous encounter years ago was gratifying. Maybe it was the combination of the two of them, knowing each other well enough for almost all inhibitions to have disappeared over the years; neither of them shy or shrinking. Two dominant personalities certainly made for an explosive combination, she thought dazedly as they fought for control of another kiss. His mouth tore away from hers; wet, nipping kisses trailed down the arching column of her throat and, a moment later, Cana was forced to concede that maybe it was less the combination and simply just _Gray_, as his mouth closed over one aching nipple. The contrast of his frigid tongue and her inflamed flesh sent waves of almost pained pleasure through her nerve endings. Her head dropped back against the wall, her hips bucking involuntarily against him and he groaned into her, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers down her spine.

He released her with a wet pop, straightening his spine without relinquishing his hold on her trembling body and stared down at her, his eyes unfathomable pools. Heavy breaths fell from his lips, brushed across her mouth as he panted for breath. Her legs were locked in a vice-like grip around his narrow hips, the heated hardness of his arousal pressing against her inner thigh insistently and Cana unconsciously licked her lips. She didn't know why, but it appeared as if it was always going to be like this with them – a sudden explosion, an uncontrollable wild-fire that ran from his body to hers and back again, making it impossible for them to hold back. She couldn't wait, had to have him inside of her before she imploded with the force of the desire running through her veins like a flash-flood.

"Are you sure?" he asked suddenly, eyes half-lidded but fixed steadily on hers.

A low laugh was his only answer as Cana shook her head in amusement; she pushed at his shoulders until he reluctantly released the bruising grip on her hips and allowed her to slide down his body, hissing through his teeth at the feel of her naked breasts pressing against his equally naked chest. One slender hand touched his throat, sliding down the middle of his upper body, dipping briefly into his belly button before coming to rest on the buckle of his belt. As if transfixed, they both watched her hand lingering on the metal, hearts pounding in their cages of rib.

"Are _you_ sure?" Cana asked, as deft fingers jumped into motion, pulling the belt free from its clasp and quickly unbuttoning his pants.

He quickly raised trembling hands and placed them against the wall, caging her in and bracing himself in the same movement. Gray panted into her hair, anticipation shortening his breath as he watched her undoing his clothes, but instead of releasing him from their confines as he'd expected – wanted – her to do, Cana slipped out from under his arm. It took a moment – a moment of pure, incredulous surprise – before he realized that she was waiting at the mouth of the small hallway.

The weight of his gaze was almost palpable when it met hers but Cana smiled, slow and inviting, and, holding his gaze locked with hers, carefully pushed her pants over her hips. The fabric slid down her legs with a silky rustle, the friction on her over-sensitive skin making her shiver. She stood for a moment longer, enjoying the lustful way his eyes raked her nearly-naked frame from head to toe before turning slowly and walking towards the bedroom. A giggle threatened to escape as she imagined the thoughts that must be running through his head by now and, distantly, she wonderingly realized that it had been years since she'd had this much fun while half-drunk.

She'd only just reached her bedroom, was still beside the bed, when she sensed him behind her. One strong hand curled around her shoulder, stopping her in place, the other smoothing down her back. Her heart began to pound, all thoughts of levity and games, disappearing with that one lingering touch filled with so much promise that Cana couldn't contain the shiver that wracked her frame. Slowly, she obeyed the unspoken command and bent over, placing her hands on top of the bed and glancing over her shoulder enquiringly. He'd shed his pants in the hallway but still wore his boxers and the silky fabric brushed tantalizingly against her as his hands settled on her hips and he drew her back against him and thrust forward lightly, a low moan falling from his lips. The return of the urgency from before was welcome, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts as he leaned forward slightly to press suddenly heated kisses along her spine. The pressure of his hard length against her, only the flimsy fabric of their underwear still separating them was almost too much to bear and Cana dropped her head and moaned as she pushed back against him in wordless appeal.

Slowly, Gray drew back, one hand sliding down her spine and over the curve of her rear, sliding down to cup the damp triangle of cloth between her legs. The touch was fleeting, hardly a touch at all, but Cana cried out, bucking her hips against his fingers that were already gone before any pleasurable contact could be prolonged. For a moment she thought he was going to stop. In punishment for her earlier behavior but before she could cry, or beg, she wasn't sure which, his fingers curled around the delicate material wrapping around her hips. The fabric was ripped away from her body unceremoniously followed moments later by unendurable pleasure as he pushed two fingers inside her without warning.

Her head flew up, hair falling haphazardly down her back and along her trembling arms that were just barely holding her up. All other thoughts fled, retreating into obscurity as the all-encompassing want flooded her system and her hips began to move on their own, riding against his fingers in a desperate, uneven rhythm.

Too soon the touch withdrew and Cana instinctively forced herself upright, rounding to face the dark-haired man behind her. Before he had a chance to say or do anything else she pounced. Surprise widened Gray's eyes as she pulled him around and pushed; the backs of his knees collided with the bed and he fell backwards. Slowly, he pushed himself fully onto the bed, leaning back on his elbows, watching the almost feline advance as Cana knelt on the bed and crawled up his body. He accommodatingly lifted his hips to help her remove his boxers, drawing in a sharp breath as her touch ghosted over his rigid length. In breathless anticipation he waited as she pushed her long hair out of the way; almost absently Gray reached out a hand, stroking softly over the silky cascade that hung over her shoulder and pooled on the covers beneath him.

Without warning her fingers curled around the base of him and in one swift movement she took him deep into her mouth. Gray nearly choked, all his strength flowing from his body and into his cock; he fell back onto the pillows bonelessly, trembling hands reaching and winding into Cana's hair, almost as if he was afraid she would stop.

Cana smiled around his length and sucked lightly; firmed her tongue and pulled back to press it against the pulsing vein along his length, hummed low and took him deep again.

"Fuck, Cana … d-don't …"

She drew back, releasing him with a wet pop, grinning mischievously at the sprawled out man. One arm was across his eyes as Gray shuddered through the pleasure and she waited patiently until the arm fell away from his eyes and he glared up at her. The glare quickly turned into a smirk that sent another set of pleasurable tingles up and down her body and Cana closed her eyes. Wood grating against wood quickly had her opening her eyes again as Gray's body twisted beneath hers, and in surprise she watched as he opened her bedside drawer, rummaging around inside until he withdrew the small foil-wrapped package he was searching for.

"How-?" she asked in amazement and Gray shrugged as he tore the foil open with fingers that trembled only slightly in anticipation.

"What?" he asked, "that's where you kept them last time."

He quickly rolled the condom down over himself and Cana stayed quiet; silently marvelling at the fact that maybe their first time was just as embedded in his memory as it was in hers.

Cold hands settling on her hips and drawing her over to straddle his body brought her back to the present and she was suddenly achingly aware of the emptiness inside of her. She leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his in a pleading kiss; one hand settled on the small of her back, stroking softly over the skin, as the other moved between their bodies. Carefully, Gray positioned himself at her entrance, never once letting his mouth leave hers. One smooth thrust of his hips and he plunged forward, just as Cana rolled her hips down to receive him. She collapsed onto his chest, trembling, harsh breaths falling onto his chest and he wrapped his other arm around her as well, holding her shuddering body tightly against his as he waited for her to adjust to the invasion.

It didn't take very long; carefully Cana pushed herself up, hands placed on Gray's chest for leverage as she rocked her hips forward experimentally. The movement drew him deeper, pushing against her back wall and her eyes closed in ecstasy. Slowly she increased the pace, listening to their harsh, mingled breathing, the soft moans and the sounds of their bodies meeting in perfect rhythm.

"Oh, god."

She couldn't keep the half-screamed moan contained as Gray suddenly pushed up just as she rolled her hips down. Desperate bliss flooded her body, turning her bones to water, and Cana found herself unable to move.

In a fluid movement Gray rolled them over, his weight settling deliciously over her.

"Scream _my _name," he demanded and promised all at once, the words ending on a low groan as her desire-slicked walls contracted exquisitely around him.

All thought of restraint, of anything else, was forgotten as he surged forward, harder and faster than before, again and again. Cana's legs wrapped around his hips, pulled him closer and held him there as he pounded into her body, driving them both closer and closer to the brink of indescribable pleasure. Time ceased to exist; one moment, one desperate kiss, flowing directly into another as the coil inside her body wound tighter and tighter. The unendurable pleasure lasted far too long and yet not nearly long enough. And as the coil stretched beyond its limits, snapped back and imploded with incredible force, white-hot pleasure flooded through her system. Cana's back arched, her head pushing back into the pillow as she pressed as close to Gray as she could get, her mouth open as screamed his name.

Her body tightened around his, wetness flooding over him with her release, and Gray buried his face in the curve of her neck and allowed the contractions stroking him so strongly to overtake his senses. Another thrust, then one more, a third, and he was spilling into her, the ecstasy drawing a harsh groan from his throat as he grinded against her and rode the last waves of his own release to their conclusion before collapsing onto her.

For a long time there was only the sound of harsh breathing as their hearts slowed down. Gray's head lying on Cana's breasts as she combed softly through the sweaty, raven hair falling into his closed eyes.

A slow, pleased smile curved Gray's lips upwards once his breathing calmed down, "You screamed," he stated, satisfaction dripping off the words.

Tiredly, Cana slapped half-heartedly at his shoulder, "Shut up," she muttered, pushing against him.

Suppressing the half-pained, half-pleasured wince as he slid out of her, Gray quickly pulled the used condom off his body and threw it into the waste-basket by the side of the bed. He fell back into the pillows with a deep sigh, reaching across and drawing Cana closer. She squirmed under his arm, her legs tangling with his as she rested her head on his chest.

Soon, slow measured breathing was the only sound as they both dropped off to sleep, uncaring, at the moment, of what the morning would bring.

* * *

_**a/n: Part 3 should be coming soon – this is turning into a much longer oneshot than I planned originally. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please review?**_


End file.
